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The WolF Pack Awards

  • Sep. 8th, 2009 at 2:22 AM

Hey, guys it's open and some of the guys in sortofbeautiful are nominated...so what are you waiting for?

Have you
VOTED yet??



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RANTRANTRANT

  • Aug. 22nd, 2009 at 10:23 PM

Usually, I'm pretty laid back...but I have my pet peeves.

1. When someone opens the plastic on my new book without my permission
2. When someone messes up my music
3. When someone messes up with my family.

Then of course, I go completely beserk.

Anyway, due to my plans to come home next month, I'm collecting books to get for my sis and I got her the Indonesian novel of James Patterson Maximum Ride 4-The Final Warning...her English is pretty well, but she's not really comfortable with it as I am. Me, I prefer to read the novels in their original language.

Anyway, I was prepared for some dubious translation and believe me, there were lots...it was quite amusing and embarrassing...but it turns out....IT'S MISSING A CHAPTER!!!!

YES!!! IT'S MISSING A CHAPTER!!!! *rantrantrantrantrantrantrant*

And not just any chapter...but chapter 34 where Max and Fang had one of the most squee moments!!!

THIS SQUEE MOMENT:

"Max, if you would just talk to me--"
"About what? You and me? There is no you and me. Especially when you keep throwing yourself at everything in a skirt!" Okay, now, that was so, so stupid. Fang's eyes widened--I'd given far too much away. Plus, Bridgid Dwyer wasn't wearing a skirt.
I wrenched my arms away from him, feeling as if my cheeks were on fire. I was confused and miserable--two of my least favorite things.
"You're wrong, Max," he said in a low, dark tone that made butterflies in my stomach. "There's a you and me, all right. There will always be a you and me."

*flutters and flail* Oh FANG....



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Just Finished Reading...

  • Aug. 22nd, 2009 at 1:06 AM

Just finished Jim Butcher's Codex Alera 1-4 and am starting on Lisa McMann's Awake and Fade (Dream Catcher series), which ironically goes toe to toe to my new original story Dream Walkers which I haven't started  yet. Still working on the mythology and I'm a bit busy with my other original work TOUCHED....


I just discovered a GREAT Jared/Kim fanfic, I love it so much I want to pimp it out to you all.

It's the story where Kim moons over Jared (in such an adorable and funny way) and Jared finally imprinting on Kim (the same adorable and funny way)...you can read it here...

Story: Hi, I'm Kim & I'm a Jaredholic
Author: [info]call_me_lor 
Fandom:
Twilight
Pairing:
Jared/Kim
Rating:
PG-13 for now (rating might go up)
Genre:
Romance/Humor
Spoilers: Read the Twilight Saga if you don't want to be spoiled.
Warning: Un-beta'd
Disclaimer: I don’t own Twilight or its characters, nor am I making any money from them. They’re all Stephenie Meyer’s, except for the occasional OC. The lyrics/quotes or whatever aren’t mine either.
Summary:
My name is Kim and I have an addiction. But it isn't your usual addiction, I'm neither addicted to drugs, nor am I addicted alcohol or even sex. I'm addicted to a guy named Jared, a guy who doesn't even know I'm alive.
Chapter Word Count:
2,295

I recommend it...it's really great!!!

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Where words are powerful

  • Jul. 18th, 2009 at 11:31 PM

I am the girl kicked out of her home because I confided in my mother that I am a lesbian.
I am the prostitute working the streets because nobody will hire a transsexual woman.
I am the sister who holds her gay brother tight through the painful, tear-filled nights.
We are the parents who buried our daughter long before her time.
I am the man who died alone in the hospital because they would not let my partner of twenty-seven years into the room.
I am the foster child who wakes up with nightmares of being taken away from the two fathers who are the only loving family I have ever had. I wish they could adopt me.
I am one of the lucky ones, I guess. I survived the attack that left me in a coma for three weeks, and in another year I will probably be able to walk again.
I am not one of the lucky ones. I killed myself just weeks before graduating high school. It was simply too much to bear.
We are the couple who had the realtor hang up on us when she found out we wanted to rent a one-bedroom for two men.
I am the person who never knows which bathroom I should use if I want to avoid getting the management called on me.
I am the mother who is not allowed to even visit the children I bore, nursed, and raised. The court says I am an unfit mother because I now live with another woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who found the support system grow suddenly cold and distant when they found out my abusive partner is also a woman.
I am the domestic-violence survivor who has no support system to turn to because I am male.
I am the father who has never hugged his son because I grew up afraid to show affection to other men.
I am the home-economics teacher who always wanted to teach gym until someone told me that only lesbians do that.
I am the man who died when the paramedics stopped treating me as soon as they realized I was transsexual.
I am the person who feels guilty because I think I could be a much better person if I didn’t have to always deal with society hating me.
I am the man who stopped attending church, not because I don't believe, but because they closed their doors to my kind.
I am the person who has to hide what this world needs most, love.


post this in your blog if you think Homophobia is wrong.

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A Guide for the Newly Undead

  • Apr. 13th, 2009 at 10:28 AM

This is something that I got from Molly Harper's Nice Girls Don't Have Fangs.

A very amusing read.


A Guide for the Newly Undead



Vampirism: (n) 1. The condition of being a vampire, marked by the need to ingest blood and extreme vulnerability to sunlight. 2. The act of preying upon others for financial or emotional gain. 3. A gigantic pain in the butt.

Welcome to the fascinating world of the undead! Please use this guidebook as a handy reference as you make your first steps toward eternity. Inside you will find information on vampire nutrition, relationships, and safety. But before learning about your future, a word about our past…

There are many alternatives to drinking human blood, including synthetic blood and animal blood. Warm-blooded animals, such as pigs or cows, are recommended, as reptilian blood tends to be bitter. In order to make synthetic or animal blood more palatable, we suggest microwaving it for thirty-eight seconds at 75-percent power. Dropping a penny into the blood (after microwaving!) also gives it an authentic coppery taste.

Loved ones may be upset by your unexplained three-day absence. If you’re not comfortable talking about your newly risen condition, try plausible explanations like a severe stomach flu, emergency dental surgery, or temporary amnesia.

While it’s tempting to try to resume your normal social activities with still-living friends, you must understand that some people will have difficulty adjusting to your new condition. Warning signs that loved ones may be planning to stake you include a sudden interest in carpentry and staring at your chest to gauge where your heart is located.

New vampires are discouraged from trying to return to their normal human routines. Especially if those routines include tanning or working as a fireman. Your day will not end well.

The bond between sires and the young vampires they create is sacred and should be respected.

Indoctrinated by years of secrecy, many older vampires have histories they may not want to share right away. It’s best to respect their privacy.

Try to avoid conflicts with other vampires until you can gauge their strength and control your own.

The World Council for the Equal Treatment of the Undead was created to protect the rights and interests of vampires of all ages. If you are summoned by a council official, it is in your best interest to respond promptly and answer all questions honestly. Hiding from the council will only work against you.

While most vampires develop special abilities, some do not. If you run into vampires who do not have gifts, it is not wise to mock them. They still have vampire strength.

Trying to blend groups of friends from the living and undead worlds can be difficult. It’s better if social events involving both the living and the nonliving do not center around food. Some more comfortable themes include poker games, bowling nights, and historical reenactments.

Vampirism can lead to a wealth of new and exciting career opportunities, including overnight-delivery driver, stunt person, and custom perfume blender.

Vampires can be territorial and possessive creatures. While it makes them passionate and exciting lovers, it can also make them terrifying ex-lovers.

When you encounter unpleasantness from the human population, try to keep in mind that you will be able to dance on their graves long after they’re dead. It’s a cheering thought.

Because vampires tend not to trust perceived bias in human media sources, they depend largely on “word of mouth” to stay informed of current events. This can lead to a localized and somewhat limited world view.

Never leave a vampire social gathering without thanking your host. A faux pas like this can lead to feuds lasting hundreds of years.

Sexual relationships can prove difficult after turning but no more difficult than they are for the living.

Remember, you’re much more flammable now than you were in life. So live every day as if you’re soaked in gasoline.

Dueling is a time-honored tradition among vampires and is closely monitored by the council. Do not enter into a battle without first consulting a Council representative.

You cannot control your family’s reaction to your new lifestyle. You can only control your reaction to your family. It’s best if that reaction does not include eating your family.

Remember that life, or unlife, is what you make of it.




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This is what I do when I hit rock bottom, things like these spring into my aching mind:

First of all, let’s cover the BASICs:

1.Gun pointed at you; BAD
2.Knife pointed at you; BAD
3.Hand-held missile pointed at you; BAD
4.Grenade thrown at you; BAD
5.Let’s cut this short and just say whatever kind of weapon that is pointed at you (even when it is a rubber duck) and you’re empty handed; BAD.
6.A device that has a countdown monitor on it; BAD.
7.Someone with a Russian-ish accent leering at you; BAD
8.When you’re punching someone, do NOT tuck your thumb inside your fist...honestly, some people just...you'd think everybody knows NOT to do this when you throw a punch but....


Now, to the specifics;

9.If you see someone run and that person is wearing a BOMB TECHNICIAN or BOMB SQUAD uniform and he’s running like the hounds of hell are licking at his heels, RUN THE SAME DIRECTION AS HE’S RUNNING TO.

10.If you happen to see a red dot on your person, no, that is not someone trying to annoy you with a laser pointer.

11.When bullets or arrows or whatever is flying around, it might be a good idea to DUCK and search for cover. (Usually instinct takes care of this but there are just some people....)

12.When bullets or arrows or whatever is flying around, it might NOT be a good idea to STAND UP when someone calls your name.

13.When bullets or arrows or whatever is flying around, it’s always prudent to stand behind those who have superior fire power (unless you are stuck in some DIE HARD-ish or RAMBO-ish movie, then you should stand behind John McClane and his counterpart no matter what firepower the bad guys are packing)

14.When you see someone sporting EuroTrash Goon looks then yes, he is a EuroTrash Goon. AVOID THESE PEOPLE AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE.

15.When someone is doing the “I-am-an-evil-scientist/ev
il-overlord/evil-general/evil-terrorist/evil-cheerleader/evil-mastermind/evil-whatever-and-is-hell-bent-on-destroying-the-world-and-everything-in-it-and-their-little-dog-too” laugh...yeah, it’s probably safe to say that he or she is EVIL. It’s always a good thing when you spot who’s who in this kind of situation.

16.When someone is monologuing as in doing the “I-am-an-evil-scientist/evil-overlord/evil-general/evil-terrorist/evil-cheerleader/evil-mastermind/evil-whatever-and-is-hell-bent-on-destroying-the-world-and-everything-in-it-and-their-little-dog-too” speech...take the chance to SHOOT HIM before he finishes it. Especially if he adds addendums and caveats such as “I’m only doing this for the greater good and everyone else is just too stupid to see it”, then you should just SHOOT HIM because he’s annoying. Kick him in the nuts AFTER you shoot him when he also whines about how he wasn’t breast fed as a child and his sister used to dressed him up as a girl.

17.When someone is acting way too goody two shoes, AVOID him or her, the person is bound to get betrayed and blown up to bits or worst yet, turns out to be the EVIL MASTERMIND.

18.If you see someone wearing a big and long jacket on a hot summer day and he enters a building after doing the nervous shuffle of the...um...nervous, all squinty eyes and sweaty face....yeah...DO NOT ENTER THE BUILDING.

19.WHEN SOMETHING IS WAY TOO MUCH TO BE TRUE, IT PROBABLY IS.

20.The enemy of your enemy is your friend is a much tried and true theory no matter where you are and what language you speak...you can always betray *cough*...I mean, go your own way later.

21.ADAPTABILITY is a good trait to have. Having focus as in I WANT TO GET OUT OF HERE ALIVE attitude is great, but it doesn’t hurt to broaden your horizon a little bit and if you can screw around with some bad guy’s plan and get all their riches, all the more fun for it.

22.BAD GUY is really a fluid term, for example; when you have a gun pointed at you, it might be wise to consider him/her your friend and persuade that person that from that day on, you are his or her best buddy....you can always..uhm...prove the person that he might’ve misunderstood you further down the road. (see? Adaptability, if you have any reservations about this theory; watch ELIZABETH SWAN, WILL TURNER and CAPTAIN JACK SPARROW in PIRATES of The CARRIBIAN, those guys raised the ‘ADAPT to the situation’ concept to a whole new level.)

23.DO NOT worry about HONOR when you’re fighting for your life, don’t wait until you’re in a face to face combat; get behind them, when they’re down kick them even more, do not wait until the decided count, hit them with something heavy to make sure he stays down, aim for the nuts. Worry about HONOR later when you’re about to die and you’re absolutely SURE there’s no way out.

24.Pain? What pain? That pain you feel is just weakness leaving your body!

25.A good poker face is not as good as knowing when and how to lie with your face and body.

26.Looking menacing is good but usually only gets you into fights, looking harmless is better since people usually underestimate you...and when they do, kick them in the nuts (figuratively and literally). HARD. The faster you reduce your opponent into a mass of quivering nerves, the more that people will leave you alone.

27.When it comes to guns, size doesn’t really matter. The count of bullets however does. But, stick to whatever’s comfortable and the one you actually know how to use it.

28.Retreat is such an ugly word, use fall back instead.

29.If you have to die, do it in the flashiest, most flamboyant, most surprising way. Take a few bad guys with you just for spite, and better yet, see if you can work an explosion in it. Usually, people who dies this way, doesn’t really die in a movie.

30.You’re in an ACTION MOVIE, hence, there will be a HERO, get close to him or her but NOT too close or you’ll end up as one of those people who gets to be a hostage or gets to be made into an example by the bad guys.

31.DO NOT be one of those hysterical person that questions everything and freezes everytime there is gunfire, these people usually dies first or killed by their own friends because they’re ultimately annoying...or you know...get eaten by zombies.

32.DO NOT be the only BLACK DUDE in the movie, they usually end up worst than dying. Usually eaten or tortured. Ah, hell, don’t be a minority ethnic person or you might as well die in the first five minutes.

33.When you’re in a one to one gun fight where both of you are hiding behind walls and pillar and such, don’t do one of those silly ‘alright, I shoot than you shoot and we’ll run out of bullets together’, for crying out loud, as soon as he finished shooting and hides, just wait quietly until he gets all fired up and gets out of his hidey hole to shoot you THEN shoot him.

34.Mass of the body is a large spot to shoot at, but seriously, shoot them in the head to avoid all that messy scenes where it turns out that he’s not dead after all. GO FOR THE KILLZONE. Chop their head off if you have the time and burn their body if you’re paranoid enough.

35.When you’re stuck in a gunfight behind cars, don’t insist on shooting his upper body which he will hide fiercely, go for the feet or whatever limbs that are poking out of his hiding place. An ear, a nose, a toe whatever.

36.If you’re a guy, ALWAYS suspect when a pretty, hot, sexy, woman slides into your space like she wants nothing more than to be your sex slave. GO BACK AND READ RULE NUMBER 19.

37.When you’re hiding weapons, pick the biggest, meanest hand gun you have and stick it somewhere not so obvious...usually people get impress or smug and think they’re so smart for finding it that they don’t see the derringer that is tucked inside your waistband. Misdirection, always a good thing.

At my bro's suggestion:

38. Never underestimate Rambo as merely "the boat guy"...that road leads to madness and many flying bullets.

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Changes

  • Oct. 25th, 2008 at 8:08 AM

It’s funny how you notice the changes in you when you are surrounded by family. Especially when you have siblings that served as a reminder of how you were, little miniatures of yourself that spoke to you with words that you once used, lifted their stubborn chin like you once did, looked at you with an expression that you once had.

Looking at them, you see yourself, years earlier and wondered whether someone had looked and found themselves in you.

In your stubbornness, in your weakness and in your fragility.

In your pride, in your strength and in your compassion.

When I came home I found myself more lenient with my sisters, less resentful of their intrusion towards my privacy, more understanding and affectionate which is a good thing. But otherwise I’ve also noticed that I’ve grown stricter in social graces; when it touches on matters like respecting your elders, courtesies and manners.

I guess as I got older I started to see the world as people who were older than me did, I started to understand the choices that they made, the advices that they gave me and for that they have my respect. Though I don’t understand all of it, I begin to understand some. I have learned through my choices both right and wrong, through my misgivings and through the whispers of my conscience.

It wasn’t easy.

Promises I made to myself, to others were broken and ignored. I strayed, came back and strayed again, doors were closed and windows were opened and some times I turned my back on rules and principles and walked the fine line between what is right and what is easy.

Words were spoken when they shouldn’t, and weren’t when they should.

I’ve broken relationships that I can never fix and made new ones that I’ve regretted. There were beautiful mistakes and ugly rights along the way.

There were good and bad times, most of it at the same time.

Some, if I have the chance, I would change, others not in a million years and the rest..I hope time will be kind and erase the bitter remnants of it.

Things happened, things that I didn’t expect, things that I never thought would ever happen, things that changed the inner workings of my own selfish little world. Characters changed, feelings disappear and time shifted and weaved its magic spell.

Closed wounds and faded scars.

Some time things happen but didn’t so much make a dent, but because of it, my life was much fuller, much happier, much rewarding.

My birthday is coming up and I marveled at how much things have changed and thankfully, the changes are mostly good than bad.

My birthday passed in a blink of an eye. Mostly, because I slept through it. Nothing new there, I’ve stopped celebrating my birthday since, huh, I don’t remember. Last year, I celebrated it with my best friend, forgot it was my b’day until a waiter carried out a chocolate pie. That was enough. Not much on partying nowadays.

Now, a good day for me means lying on the floor with a good book or listening to good music or watching a good movie, while playing with my cats.

Yes, it is boring. But that’s me.

I’m a simple girl with simple pleasures. And I’m a better woman for it.

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Dreams

  • Oct. 25th, 2008 at 8:04 AM

Dreams. A mystery still in these times of science and technology.

The subconcious minds way of telling us that we are missing

something, the hearts way of telling us that we are yearning for

something.

I woke up at three in the morning, what others call the witching

hour. Some say that dreams in the hour will come true. It was

unnerving.

This is the fourth dream I have or ever remembered, that is truly

about me. I was in there playing a part and the people around me

also played a part. It’s pretty rare for me to dream like that.

Maybe it was because I didn’t wait for exhaustion to put me to

sleep like I usually do.

Outside my window, it was dark and I was sleepy. And when I tried

to sleep. I slept.

Then the dream weaves itself in me.

It’s strange and wonderous how the characteristics of oneself

remained true within a dream.

The things I did in my dream was easily something that I would

do, things that I would say. It suprises me.

The frustration, the bite of sadness, the confusion and the

exasparation was real. Each emotion washed over my body, my

heart, my mind as if I was awake. It -felt- real.

Every emotion teased and seduced actions from me. Actions, that I

thought as I like awake in my bed, I would do in real life.

I woke up disoriented, confused and amused, even when sadness

envelopes me like a warm blanket.

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That Would Be Book

  • Oct. 25th, 2008 at 8:01 AM

Here’s a page from my book.

" Don’t you make it as it’s all my fault. You’re not walking away

from this making all of this my fault." His face was cold with

his icy anger that he was famous for. His black eyes seemed

endless. The graze on his cheek was still bleeding. " You’ve been

finding fault with everything I do, just itching to find a way

out for months." I raised my chin in defiance, hating the the

fact that he was right." Last night I gave you a reason and you

took it the first chance you got." He said all those things like

he was doing me a favor. He was right about me trying to find

myself a way out but last night wasn’t why I made it ended that

way. It was just one of the reasons. Not the only reason.

" That’s not true_" His hands reached out and grabbed my arms.

" Don’t you lie to me. Don’t you ever lie to me." I gritted my

teeth as he shook me hard once, twice." You haven’t been looking

me in the eye for months, you move away when I touched you,

you’ve closed yourself away from me."

" That’s not_" I cut off when he pushed his face closer to mine,

his fingers digging onto my skin.

" Can you look at me straight in the eye and tell me that what I

said isn’t true?" We stared at each other. I saw instantly, that

it was no used talking to him. He had made his mind up. About me.

About us.

" No, you’re right." I saw something flickered in his eyes. What

was that? Hesitation? Triumph? What? " Of course you’re right.

You’re always right. Wow, guess you’re on to me. Do you want to

know why?" His eyes burned into me.

" Yes, dammit. Yes."

" Because I was starting to hate you."

His fingers loosened on my arm for a minute before it tightened

again as though it was something to hold on to. It hurt, his

fingers on my arms but it help me focused, so I welcome the pain.

I wasn’t trying to hurt him, I didn’t even thought that I could

hurt him, but now, with his face so close to mine, I see it. I

can feel the hurt radiating from him as I can feel his heat

radiating off his skin, the way I could smell the smell of mint

and the aftershave that I bought him, the smell of his shampoo,

of his skin mingling with the smell of perfume, a reminder of

whatever it was that we had together. There was laughter, there

was pain, but most of all, there were just this big mess of

emotions between us.

One feeling stood out, confusion. There was a lot of confusion

between us and confusion is not really a good solid foundation

for any kind of relationship. We had tip toed on that unsteady

rope for far too long, it was straining under our feets.

" And I was starting to hate me. I was sick and tired of you, of

me. Of us. And I didn’t like that feeling, Danny. I didn’t like

it at all. I want to be myself and I want to like myself. Not as

your faithful companion, not as your assistant, not as whatever

we had ever been to each other. I wanted me back, the me I was

before you came along and turned my life upside down without me

having a say in it." I shook my head before he protested. " I’m

not saying that you’re wrong. It was fun while it lasted but we

both know it couldn’t last. Tell me one good reason why it

should, but you couldn’t, because I couldn’t. This is not just

because of last night, Danny. It isn’t." I was tired, bone deep

tired. All I wanted to do was just to slide down onto the floor,

crawl myself into a dark corner then cry my eyes out. All that

happened yesterday and this morning was starting to get to me.

But I didn’t want him to remember me as weak, defeated. Though I

felt like that. So I called up the willpower that had made me

surpassed my limitations over and over again.

" You and I. Us doesn’t work. We cancle eachother out, Danny. We

don’t need this in our life. We don’t need the problems that we

bring to each others life."

" You mean you don’t need the problems that I bring into your

life." We stared at eachother. His dark eyes looked into mine.

Not wanting to be the first who glanced away.

" Yes." His eyelids flickered down for a moment. I care for him,

God help me I do, I care for what he thought of me, I care for

his feelings and I didn’t want to hurt him. But hurting him was

easy, I’d just tell him what he wanted to hear, the things that

would hurt so he could blame me. He will hurt and he will be

angry, and he will dismiss me. He will forget me and we will get

on with each others life. That was the plan, a good solid plan,

but as feelings go, as people go, even the most perfect plan can

go astray. And this one had blew right in front of my face. I

raised my hands and touched his hands, trying to ease them off

me. But his grip was strong. It didn’t hurt anymore, I felt numb.

All of me was just numb. I guessed whatever it was that we had,

it meant something to me after all.

" Let me go, Danny." My voice was a whisper, but it carried

through the acoustic of the bathroom. " Let me go." He knew what

I was asking, I wasn’t just asking him to let my arms go, I was

also asking him to let the matter go. To let me walk out of this

house, out of his life. To let me walk out on him.

Those few second where he loosen his hold on my arms, the few

seconds his arms slid down against mine seemed endless and I just

knew, this moment will be one of those moments in my life that I

would never really forget. My arms would later hurt like hell, it

would bruise but bruises disappear. I don’t mind a little bruise

now and then, if you live long enough you learn to ignore them,

sometimes you learn to appreciate them ’cause most of the time it

fulfills the function as a reminder that you are still alive.

It’s a sad thing, yeah, but sometimes life is just exactly that.

Sad.

He stepped aside, I picked up my bag and held it infront of me

like a shield. I had taken all the blows that I could handle that

day. I couldn’t take anymore. But he stayed on his side of the

bathroom, quiet, still, his eyes were looking at somewhere at the

vicinity of my left ear. I closed my eyes at the first step that

I made, the sound of my boots against the bathroom floor filled

the stillness in the air. It sounded too loud, sounded too final.

But I took the second step and the third step. My boots crunched

on the perfume’s broken glass bottle and it let out a wisp of

fresh scent along with a trickle of remembered laughter and a

shadow of a memory. <\i>

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The Quiet Inside Me

  • Oct. 25th, 2008 at 7:34 AM

I like quiet.

I like solitude.

I am unable to function without a measure of silence.

Even when I blare some sort of music, there will come a moment where all the drumming, guitar riffs and screaming (whenever I am in a violent mood)will eventually evolve into white noise. It doesn’t matter if I am listening to Avenged Sevenfold or Norah Jones, there will be a second
that I climb into myself and be a blanketed by silence.It is never smothering, never alienating for me, although perhaps for the people around me, it can be somewhat unnerving and annoying but for me,it is all that comforts me.

Having said that, there is always some part of me that…is restless, I think even more so than other people because the other half of me is so comfortable in silence, with being alone. Not that it prefers company, no, it just likes to be…reckless once in a while, the part that is
not so polite, that likes to poke at other people’s wounds just for the hell of it. Not in lashing out, not because of hurt, or because it is put into a spot, not even because it bores easily, but simply for thesole reason of because it can.

It’snot completely spiteful, not all of it is mean, most of the time it does this because it feels interest in the person; like a scientist observing an experiment that was parted from her by a sheet of glass, disconnected from the specimen itself but nonetheless engage

It bothers me sometimes, how easily I control my emotions, to manipulate or dismiss it I only need to decide that I don’t want to feel this, or to think that ‘not now’, mentally flicking it away like a fly, like something insignificant, bothersome and what’s astonishing is, the way those emotions disappear varies, depending on what it is.

If it’s anger, usually it simmers, simmers underneath my nonchalant face, undulating between my words until I find the irony or humor that will dispel the anger, although the slight will forever be etch unto my mind like a never disappearing scar.

If it’s sadness, it ripples, ripples on the lake of my consciousness until the surface is again calm, mirror-like, clear.

If it’s hurt, well, it festers, festers like a wound that will never quite heal because I tend to pick at the scab, leaving it in a perpetual state of bleeding.

A reminder of never again.

Sometimes, the hurt is comforting because it is familiar, a certain someone says that I tend to hug my hurt all to myself, as if it was something precious.

Imagine what I said to that.

Though, considering how interested this person is on what makes

me myself, I have to concede that it’s not completely untrue.

Sometimes the hurt is something that I use, to justify any kind of rebelliousness, any kind of stupidity, any kind of manipulation that I do, most of the times it’s just something that I hold on to, like a well loved teddy bear, something that I rolled on my tongue like a favorite taste among all other tastes.

The sharp, bitter tang of regret.

The almost coppery sweetness of heartbreak.

The acidic sting of disappointed love.

The choking, grittiness of lost.

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Dreams and Imagination

  • May. 20th, 2008 at 5:46 PM

I jolted awake in the middle of the night by the hush of voices that horrifically resembled eerie demonic whispers. It echoed along the smothering dark of my room like a requiem...panic started to claw to the surface of my composure...then I realized that it was just music coming out of the earphones of my iPod, accidentally turned on by my cat who--strangely--very much like to lie on top of my stuff. I should've known it was something like that, after all, hadn't the whispers vaguely sounded like the guitar riffs of Within Temptation's The Howling?
The news that we can actually be frighten to death is not good for me. Not at all.
Well, it's not good news for anyone, I suppose.
The reason why I'm griping over this is because, well, I have a big imagination...and it seemed to have developed a life of its own. There is no blocking it, no refusing, no mountain too high, no river too deep, no avenue goes unexplored.
Sometimes it's playful...while other times, it's not.
I guess it's okay if my imagination stops with my waking days but it doesn't. It continuous into my dreams.
So, it's really not good for me that our emotions can influence our body in such an extreme way.
Not when my dreams feeds on my wild imagination, that it even manages to have plots and even narrators sometimes.
Yes, I kid you not.
Some people are lucky to have lucid dreams and remember them after.
Me? I make little movies in my dreams.
My dreams can feel so vivid and tangible as if I really was awake.
My dreams can actually tap into what I was wallowing over before I went to sleep. For example, if I was mulling over something to do, in my dreams I would actually do it, leaving me all confused in the morning over why the thing that was supposed to be finished, wasn't.
Major cases of de ja vu is like breathing for me.
It can delve into my inner most desires that it leaves me feeling bereft when I wake up and found that all of it was only a midsummer night's dream.
In some ways my imagination has always been my play ground, my saving grace, my fortress of solitude where I can indulge myself, my safety harbor when things in the real world becomes too messy for my delicate sensibilities, but in most ways, it is my most evil of enemies, my not so better angel, my two edged sword.
But like most decadent pleasures, I rather have it than not.

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